


Easy like Saturday Nights

by ademigodgirl



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Band Fic, Based on a Tumblr Post, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21822040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ademigodgirl/pseuds/ademigodgirl
Summary: When Calum is dragged out to Michael's performance, he doesn't expect the chance to meet someone special. Especially not in such an embarrassing way...
Relationships: Calum Hood/Ashton Irwin, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 27





	Easy like Saturday Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this tumblr prompt:
> 
> au where u don’t know ur favorite band member is in a band and ur walking around and see some attractive looking person walking opposite you with their security behind them but u don’t know so u go over and the security’s like ‘woah’ but u just tap the band member’s shoulder and say “hey i don’t mean to alarm you, but there’s a big man following you”

Calum loved Sydney. The lights, the tourist attractions, the people; everything there made him happy. He only lived thirty minutes from downtown with no traffic, but it often seemed like it was a continent away. Calum rarely visited. He had a job, friends, and family right in his little suburb, so there was no reason to go to out of town. His best friend, Michael, sometimes played shows at bars or pubs in Sydney with his band, but Calum usually only attended shows in their hometown. One weekend, Calum eventually made the journey to downtown Sydney. Michael’s band had been invited to a “sweet gig.” Apparently Calum wasn’t allowed to miss it.

*********************

“It’s like battle of the bands from School of Rock but better because we’re going to win,” Michael tried.

“But I have to be at work at the pizza place by eight the next morning!” Calum groaned, lazily holding the phone between his ear and his shoulder. He slumped down onto the kitchen table.

“I came to your footie match.”

“That was eight years ago! You had to come because my mom was the one driving you home and you stayed in the car!”

“It still counts, though!”

“I don’t even play football anymore!”

“That’s your fault. Please come, your favorite band will be there!”

“They’re not my favorite band.”

“Then how come you knew which band I was talking about?” Michael answered cheekily.

“Fine. I’ll go, but only if you give me a ride,” Calum answered. Calum knew he was definitely going as soon as Michael mentioned Swallow the Goldfish. Michael probably knew that, too. Swallow the Goldfish had been Calum’s favorite band long before Michael’s band had even existed.

“See? I knew you still loved me!” Calum could hear the excitement in Michael’s voice over the phone. Instead of gracing him with an answer, Calum just hung up. Michael texted a minute later:

_pick u up in the van @ 8, dont sleep in or ill dump cold water on u :)_

That’s the way their friendship was, teasing and threatening and loving all at the same time. No one understood: their parents, Michael’s bandmates, and their friends all thought the two were a little crazy, but they didn’t need approval from anyone else. They lived their lives as the best friends anyone had ever seen.

*********************

The next morning, Calum thankfully wasn’t woken up by freezing water. His alarm went off on time and he actually managed to get dressed on time, for once. By the time the “band van” pulled up, Calum had already downed a glass of orange juice as his breakfast and hastily grabbed his phone.

The van full of boys arrived at the pub they would be playing at soon enough. Michael and his bandmates began unloading all of their equipment. Calum decided to be useful and helped Louis, the keyboardist, carry equipment inside. The pub, named Roses and Daggers, seemed to be quite average. There was stage in one corner where another band appeared to be setting up. Most of the tables and chairs angled toward the stage, but all of the current patrons were sitting at the bar. Many people were entering with instruments cases and setting them against the wall opposite the stage. That’s where Calum and Louis decided to put the keyboard. Michael and his other two bandmates, Harry and Luke, were following with their respective instruments, drums and guitar. They all decided to claim a table in the back for their little group and wait for the event to start.

Soon, a man walked up on the stage. He turned on the microphone in the center, saying, “Hey, I’m Zayn. I’m the coordinator of this event, so I’ll be directing everyone on and off the stage. Your judges tonight are Mr. Liam Payne and Mr. Niall Horan--if you wave to them they might wave back.”

There were a few nervous laughs before Zayn continued, “We’ll be starting the show in just a few minutes. I hope everyone’s ready to have some serious fun! Good luck!”

Calum rolled his eyes. Not only had Michael dragged him to some weird band competition, it was also one with a dorky announcer and judges that looked just as dorky. What Michael, Luke, Louis, and Harry were trying to get out of this, Calum wasn’t sure. Maybe there was a prize or something. Hopefully it was money.

After the first few bands had performed, it was time for their band to perform. They hadn’t decided on a name yet, so Michael had put down the first thing that came to mind when he was filling out the application: Pizza Warriors. Even though it was very menacing or exciting, the band decided they would keep it. Calum rolled his eyes. Just his luck that he would have to support the dorkiest band at the dorkiest gig. And Michael thought he could be punk rock.

Pizza Warriors played better than Calum had ever seen them play before. Granted, he usually only listened to them practicing while he was lying on the floor of Luke’s garage, but had become so much better in the six months they had been a band. Having actual scheduled practices had eventually forced them into actually practicing and it was paying off. Calum was forced to go to nearly every practice as the “official band cheerleader.” Most of the time he just ate Luke’s food and played video games on his phone for a couple hours and then went home.

*********************

Calum was drunk. He hadn’t meant to drink more than one beer, but here he was: slumped across the table trying to count Harry’s fingers. It was harder than you’d think, especially when Louis--probably equally as drunk--kept trying to lick them. The competition was still going on, but none of the boys at their table seemed to particularly care. Luke wasn’t drinking, but only so that he could be the one to accept their award if they won. Michael was trying to sing along to the songs other bands were playing. As some of them were originals, he was failing miserably. Swallow the Goldfish had already performed. As a pretty much world famous band with tons of fans, it was surprising that they were performing at such a small gathering. Calum was sure they were going to win. He had almost passed out onto Luke’s lap while he watched them. Especially their drummer, Ashton, who he maybe had a crush on. Not that he would ever admit it. Luke didn’t appreciate becoming a pillow so much.

When Luke got up to go to the bathroom, Calum had to find a new spot. He decided going outside and getting some fresh air would be a good alternative to lying around in his best friend’s bandmate’s lap bemoaning his singleness and Ashton’s unfair biceps.

After going outside, Calum leaned against the wall of the building and watched all the people walking past. It was probably the alcohol talking, but he was upset that he knew absolutely nothing about all of the people around him. Each one of them had a different story and a different life. Calum made up his mind to make a difference in at least one person’s life in the next ten minutes. After choosing and and unchoosing people to talk to, he finally decided on the perfect person. He seemed vaguely familiar: super tall, curly hair, walked like he knew where he was going. Kinda hot, though. A concerning detail that caught Calum’s eye, however, was that there was an large man following him! The “stalker,” as Calum’s drunken brain dubbed him, was following a few feet behind Pretty Boy. Wait. Since when was his name Pretty Boy? To be honest, Calum didn’t really care. When Pretty Boy stopped to check on his phone and the stalker stopped, too, Calum decided it was time to become a hero and make his move.

Calum tapped his shoulder, “Uh, excuse me, but--”

“Hey kid, you need to step back,” Calum whirled around to find the source of the new voice. The stalker was staring straight at him!

Pretty Boy interrupted, “No, it’s okay. He can talk to me.” That only confused Calum more.

“Uh, I don’t mean to alarm you, but there’s a big man following you.”

Pretty Boy confusedly answered, “What? Can you repeat that?”

He leaned towards Pretty Boy and whispered in his ear, “That man is following you!” Pretty Boy stepped back a bit and rubbed his ear. Okay, maybe it was louder than a whisper.

“Oh, him? The one wearing all black?”

“Yeah, he’s following you. You should call the police!”

“I don’t think I need to do that. He’s supposed to be following me. That’s his job.”

“I’ve never heard of a job like that.”

“You’ve never heard of a bodyguard or a security officer!”

“Don’t be stupid, of course I have! I’ve never heard of getting paid to be a stalker.” Pretty Boy giggled. Actually fucking giggled. Calum didn’t understand. Pretty Boy should be running away and calling the police, not laughing like a five-year-old.

“I’m trying to tell you that he’s not a stalker, he’s my bodyguard.” Oh. That... made a lot more sense.

“Why do you need a bodyguard?”

“Sometimes the fans get a little too crazy and try to steal things from me or touch me and I need someone to keep them away.”

“Like ceiling fans or the kind that turn back and forth?”

“What? No, like people who like our band.”

“Michael’s band?” Calum asked. As far as he knew, Pizza Warriors had one fan: Calum.

“I don’t know who Michael is, mate. I’m talking about my band--” They were interrupted by a group of teenage girls who came running up and tried to surround Pretty Boy. The ex-stalker pulled him away and pushed him into a nearby car. As the car drove away, Calum went back inside to find Michael.

*********************

Milk. Of all things Michael could have decided he needed to have for breakfast, it was milk. Which, of course, he had run out of. And of course Calum was elected to go to the store and get it, despite the fact that it wasn't his house. So Calum set off with a massive hangover and no motivation to get a carton of milk from the nearest shop.

After he had finally located the milk aisle and picked one out, Calum’s head felt like it was going to split in two. He hurried towards the checkout counters, wanting to get out as fast as possible.

Of course, that was when he slammed into someone.

“Oh shit, sorry mate!” the other body said, steadying itself on the nearest shelf. Calum turned around to apologize and stopped. It was Ashton, the drummer from Swallow the Goldfish! Before Calum could kneel on the floor and beg forgiveness, Ashton spoke.

“Hey, funny seeing you again.”

“I’ve met you before? Well, I went to the gig last night but other than that I’ve only seen you in pictures and videos--”

“Dude, last night you tried to convince me that I was about to be murdered!”

“I-- what?” Calum honestly could not believe that Ashton was actually having a conversation with him. Ashton laughed at his dumbstruck expression.

“You really are something else,” he shook his head, looking Calum up and down.

Calum was about trying to say something, anything, when Ashton spoke again.

“A couple of my friends are coming over to my place this afternoon to hang out, you want to come?”

Calum spluttered, trying to say yes, when he remembered the milk in his hands.

“Uhhh, what would I do with this?” he asked, cursing that he hadn’t said yes.

“Mate, I have a refrigerator,” Ashton replied, “and I’ll pay for it,too, if it means you’ll come home with me.” He winked and Calum thought he was going to die of excitement.

“Sounds like a date!” Calum giggled. He had never been happier to wait in a checkout line in his life.

*********************

Six months later, Calum was finishing up unpacking the last of his boxes that he had just moved into Ashton’s house. Now, he never complained about having to run to the shop to pick up a last minute carton of milk.


End file.
